I have a biopsy tomorrow afternoon.  That should take me from low to very low!  At the moment I struggle to get around the house and I missed last night’s football.  Which turns out to be a positive.

I’m in pain.  My mobility is limited hugely.  My appetite is gone.  My ability to judge the good work of the constipation sachets is limited.  A fast move to the gents is completely impossible.  Constipation Roulette is a threat!

True to say I’m not enjoying this bit.  No treatments.  Pain.  Overwhelming discomfort.  This is not something I considered when I decided in December 2016 my future was travel, pain for a few days and then a quick death.

The biopsy results are still a week or two off.  They will decide if drug trials are an option.  Or if the new immunotherapy drug is a treatment.  Or if returning to chemotherapy is actually a good thing.

In the meantime, I’m not very well.  A couple of lunch dates on hold.  An opportunity to see the Scottish Borders welcome, but beyond me.  For now.

I do think I need a treatment and I need it fast though.  This isn’t fun.